


A Kindred Spirit

by RandallsRedTie



Category: Thick of It (UK)
Genre: Backstory, Challenge fic, Child Abuse, F/M, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 22:53:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandallsRedTie/pseuds/RandallsRedTie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone wanted me to do a first kiss/Malcolm Tucker fic so I created a character completely outside the TTOI universe. Set after Series 4. Some descriptions of child abuse, not graphic but might be a bit triggering. Not your usual sweary Malcolm here, trying to present a different side to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kindred Spirit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheCrazyGeek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCrazyGeek/gifts).



About three months after his release from prison Malcolm decided he needed to get some cash flow going. Several publishing houses had been flooding him with offers for his life story. He of course sold it to the highest bidder. So he set about to get it done. A week and much frustration later he realized he had no gift at all for writing (other than expletive laden anecdotes) and so decided to hire a ghost writer. He interviewed several candidates, settling on a young woman newly arrived from America (and not just because she seemed to have an even more wicked sense of humor than he did) Her name was Florence Cartwright. She couldn’t have been more than 25 but she was lightyears away from the typical young American; witty, confident, well-spoken and with impeccable manners. She had long chestnut hair and dark blue eyes that shone out from behind black-rimmed designer glasses. If Malcolm were honest with himself (which he often wasn’t) he was taken with her immediately.  
They devised a way of working. He’d dictate things to her, she’d embellish, making them come alive as she typed away. Malcolm found her company thrilling. She had an easy laugh and often let it fly as they worked, finding the stories of the many bollockings he’d doled out even funnier than he did. When they decided to go back to his childhood the air turned decidedly more serious as Malcolm dredged up his painful childhood at the hands of a drunken father who was more than generous with his fists (and anything else he could use to beat Malcolm, his mother and his sister). Then came the day when he told the story of one of the worst beating his father had given him.   
“My God Malcolm, did he really do that to you, to you both,” she asked, voice and body shaking, eyes more than a bit glassy with unshed tears.  
“Aye pet. And I’ve the scars to prove it. And so does my sister. She’s older than me and for years she took the brunt of his rages, trying to protect me,” his voice faltered then, remembering the one night it had gotten so bad that his sister’d had to lie on her stomach to sleep because of the lashes across her back from their father’s belt. “Fucking bastard…” he whispered as his body started to tremble with pent up rage.  
“I don’t know what to say Malcolm. I’m so sorry that happened to you. Only know that you‘re not the only one with scars. I know a little about what you‘ve been through.” Florence looked over at Malcolm who’d grown very still, very quiet, tears shining on his face. She got up from the desk where she’d been working and walked over to him.   
“We can stop for now if you’d like. I know I'd like to, I think we could both use a bit of a breather.” He said nothing, only swallowed hard and nodded, wiping his face with his hand. Florence reached up with her hand and grabbed his as he wiped his face. He felt his heart flutter in his chest at her touch, the first real human contact he’d had for a long time. She moved closer then, wrapped her arms around him. He stood very still for a moment, then returned the embrace, resting his head on her shoulder, allowing her to comfort him. She pulled slightly away then, looked him full in the eyes, then surprised them both by stepping up on her toes to plant a soft kiss on his lips. Malcolm’s body reacted before his brain had a chance to catch up and he kissed her back, deeply, moaning softly as he did so, running his hands up her back. She made the first move to break them apart, breathing heavily. He rested his forehead against hers, trying to regain his senses. Florence spoke first.  
“I’m going to make some tea. You hungry?”  
“Yes,” he said quietly, realizing that he in fact was quite hungry.   
“I’m sure I can find something in the kitchen to make us a little dinner. You just relax Malcolm.” He watched her as she walked away from him and into the kitchen. She wore a top that was a bit low in the back, her hair in a ponytail. Malcolm felt a pang of sympathy as he saw the faint traces of scars as they dipped down to be hidden by her blouse.


End file.
